You're My Favorite Contradiction
by Faolan Rei
Summary: Jean knows better than anyone that Armin is more than what he seems, but somehow Armin has a way to just keep on surprising him.


Armin, as Jean had come to find over the years of their relationship, was a man of many surprises. Wide, baby blue eyes and an innocent-looking face gave way not to the childish naivety one would expect to find, but to a cool, calculative demeanor and a quick mind that could put many scholars to shame. A meek, passive attitude hid a brave, passionate soul and a strong desire to keep those he cared about safe. At first glance, Armin was a great many things: innocent, timid, weak and frail, when in truth he was the complete opposite. So, in hindsight, it really shouldn't come as much of a surprise to Jean that Armin hid yet another unbelievable fact about his personality.

In spite of his usual pacifist outlook on many situations, when Armin lost his temper, it was a truly terrifying sight to behold, and not in the way you would think. He never threw things, didn't shout or hit or call anybody names. No, when Armin got mad, it was like an ominous thundercloud slowly drifting overhead, promising danger in the way it rumbled and roared, but never signaling when or where it was going to strike. His soft blue eyes would turn suddenly cold and glint like daggers, his baby-like face would harden and every measured word was spoken with the intention of cutting deeply, and if Jean were a lesser man he would surely have crumpled like wet paper under the force of Armin's anger.

But Jean had always been stubborn and headstrong to the point of recklessness, and so, instead of heeding his gut instinct to turn and flee, he did what he always did. He fought back, harsh words spewing like poison from his mouth before he could think to stop them, and by then the damage had been done. The only sign given that Jean's words had had any effect on Armin at all was the brief flicker of pain in those glacial blue eyes, so quickly that even so much as a blink would have caused Jean to miss it entirely, and then Armin simply uttered two words.

"Get out."

And so he did.

* * *

Jean didn't see Armin for weeks, but given how they left things between them, he- rather ignorantly- saw this as a good thing. Despite their many mutual friends and the fact that they went to the same school, Jean rarely saw Armin at all, and when he did, they both promptly looked the other direction without saying a word to each other. Eren and Mikasa were the first to notice, obviously, and threatened various forms of bodily harm on Jean on multiple occasions- Eren with his usual angry ferocity and Mikasa with a level, dangerous tone and an icy stare that left Jean a near-quivering mess. But the sting of anger Jean still felt after his fight with Armin far outweighed any fear and thus, his pride wouldn't allow him to attempt to patch things up with his now ex-boyfriend.

It was on the third week that his resolve started to crumble.

"I don't know what to do, man," Jean muttered, leaning back on the couch and raking his hands through his hair. "I've never seen him so angry before. I swear, he was scarier than Mikasa."

Marco gave him a sympathetic look, trying to find the best way to help his lifelong friend with his latest dilemma. "I'm sure it wasn't that bad. This is Armin we're talking about."

"No, believe me, it was that bad," Jean shuddered, remembering the look on Armin's face when he saw him last. "He looked ready to murder me in the slowest way humanly possible."

"Well," Marco said slowly, as if considering his words very carefully. "What did you two fight about?"

Jean tensed, and he crossed his arms as his eyes darted across the room, away from Marco. "I might've…messed up his chances of getting into that famous dance school he's been talking about."

"You what?" Marco asked, eyes wide and incredulous. "How did you do that?"

"I messed up!" Jean said, throwing his hands in the air angrily. "I acted without thinking _again_ and I messed up." He ran an irritated hand through his hair and gave a dry chuckle to nobody in particular. "God, I'm so fucking stupid."

"Jean, that's not true," Marco said, trying to console his distressed best friend. "Now calm down and tell me what happened."

"I swear I didn't mean to, Marco," Jean said, his voice trembling and sounding on the verge of angry tears. "I walked with Armin to the cafe down the street from his apartment to meet the instructor that Armin had been talking to. He said it would make it easier for him if I was there," another dry bark of laughter, and a dark scowl pinched his face before he continued, "and so we walked together to meet this guy, and he….you should've seen him, Marco. He was...a giant…pompous _ass._ He was all arrogant smirks and snarky attitude, and don't even get me started on the snide remarks he insisted on making after he found out we were together. And _yeah,_ I was mad, but I figured I could suck it up and get through it because it was so important for Armin that he get into this school. But _then,_ " Jean abruptly stopped talking and covered his eyes, hands trembling slightly in anger and maybe a hint of remorse.

"And then what happened?" Marco asked gently when the silence continued to stretch on.

Jean heaved a heavy sigh, dropping his hands down into his lap and lacing his fingers together. "And then he said he'd have to talk with his supervisors and see if there was room in their school for someone of ' _Armin's kind'_. And so I got pissed off, and Armin's obviously upset but he's trying to get me to calm down because at that point I had been making a scene, but the guy just kept _going_ and I couldn't," Jean's voice started getting rough with emotion, obviously still angry about what happened that day. But Marco, being Jean's friend for so long, could detect the regret in his voice, and he knew that Jean felt terrible about what he did.

"And so I punched him," Jean said with a sigh, getting his emotions back under control. "I punched him, and for a split second, I felt good about that. But then I looked over and saw Armin's face and he was just so _horrified_. He convinced the guy not to press charges or anything but he wouldn't even _look_ at me until we got back to his place." Jean sighed again, lowering his head into his hands and shaking it slowly. "And then we fought, and I'd never seen him so angry in my life. I doubt he'll ever speak to me again, not that I would blame him."

"Oh, Jean," Marco sighed, placing a comforting hand on his best friend's shoulder. "It wasn't okay that you punched that guy, not at all, but you did it because you honestly care about Armin, right? And give him some credit. Armin's not the type to hate anybody."

"Sure looked like he hated me," Jean mumbled past his fingers.

"He was angry, yes, but that doesn't mean he hates you. Give him some more time to cool down and just _talk_ to him. Whether or not he decides to forgive you, however," Marco said, gently prying Jean's hands from his face. "That will be all up to him."

Jean took a deep breath, letting it out in a rush before nodding his head ever so slightly. "Yeah, I'll do that," he said, and he looked up to Marco's face with eyes that showed nothing but gratitude. "Thank you, Marco."

Marco smiled, patting Jean's knee. "Who else would be willing to put up with you and set you straight when you decide to go off the deep end?"

"Hey!"

* * *

Armin didn't cool down.

More and more time passed, and still Jean never spoke a word to Armin, but not for lack of trying. Armin continued to avoid Jean like the plague, swiftly ducking out of sight every time he caught sight of his ex and leaving Jean with an ever growing sense of dread at the simple fact that Armin didn't want to speak with him. Eventually, even Mikasa and Eren seemed to take pity on him- much to Jean's chagrin- sending him worried glances whenever Armin brushed him off and attempting to soothe his anxious mind with what they probably assumed were consoling words but turned out to be somewhat cold, stiff gestures from Mikasa and grudgingly remorseful condolences from Eren. Jean secretly knew that their pity was less for Jean's sake and more because Armin was, in fact, miserable, no matter how hard he tried to hide it, and that thought damn near killed him every time.

But Jean had had enough.

He slammed his hand into the locker next to Armin's hard enough to startle the blond teen, and for the first time in weeks those gorgeous blue eyes looked to him in an expression that wasn't pure anger or indifference. But upon seeing just who he was looking at, the confusion bled from his face until it was nothing but the cold indifference Jean had grown so used to seeing from him since their fight. With a firm slam of his locker door, Armin turned and walked down the hall, away from Jean.

Jean grabbed hold of Armin's elbow- not enough to hurt, but just enough to stop him from walking away again- and kept it there, a desperate expression on his face. "Armin," Jean pleaded. He tried _so_ very hard to keep his voice firm, but he could tell that he was on the verge of breaking. "We need to talk."

For the longest time, Armin said nothing. He didn't even turn to look back at the man who had hold of his arm, and for every long, grueling second that passed between them, Jean could feel his fragile composure slipping. But then Armin breathed a near inaudible sigh and turned around to face Jean once more. Jean could still see the dark fury dancing in Armin's eyes, but Jean felt a small spark of hope at the simple fact that Armin was _looking_ at him again, and he couldn't help but let that feeling grow if just a tiny bit more at his next words.

"Okay. Let's talk."

* * *

Silence reigned, and Jean felt like he would soon go mad with it. Jean and Armin agreed that the inevitable talk should happen someplace quiet, where no one would interrupt them, so they spent an awkward few minutes sitting in Jean's car en route to Armin's house- Armin's grandfather wasn't due home for another few hours- and most definitely _not_ looking at each other, though that didn't stop Jean from sneaking the occasional glance Armin's way when he was certain the blond wasn't looking. Not that Armin looked at him at all during the entire trip.

It wasn't until they were finally tucked away in Armin's room, door quietly shut behind them, that Armin turned to face Jean, and Jean wanted to sink into the earth to be swallowed alive at the look in his eyes. The anger and fury that could once be seen swirling in those baby blues had diminished, if only slightly, but that wasn't what tore at Jean's insides like a razor. No, what he saw in those eyes was much worse.

Because just under the carefully crafted mask Armin had created, Jean saw pain.

"Armin," Jean said, almost choking on the ever growing lump in his throat.

"No, you will let me talk and you will _listen_ ," Armin interrupted, voice cold and hard with an undercurrent of something Jean didn't want to name. "You were completely out of line, Jean, and worst of all you took it out of me. If you think for even a second that I'm just going to forget about everything and forgive you-"

"I'm not-" Jean interrupted, and Armin sent him probably the deadliest glare he'd ever seen, but Jean pressed on. "I'm not asking you to. God, I wouldn't in a million _years_ ask you to forgive me after what I did. I just want you to hear me out for five minutes, please."

For a long moment, Armin didn't say a word. He stood there, face unreadable, staring at Jean like he could see through to his soul, and some part of Jean wished he could because then he would see just how truly _sorry_ Jean was for everything he put him through. But then, almost imperceptibly, Armin nodded his head and said, in a tightly controlled voice, "I'm listening."

Jean was relieved for a brief second, but he knew he wasn't out of hot water just like that, so he pushed on. "Armin, I know nothing I do can really make up for what I did, but I want you to know anyway that I am _so sorry_ for everything that happened that day. You have no idea how sorry I am. But I couldn't just sit there and let that asshole treat you the way he did, no matter how important he was. And no, don't give me that look," Jean said, because Armin's face had gotten a little pinched in the way that it did when Jean knew he was upset but didn't want to say anything. "Because you have to know how important you are to me, Armin, and to a lot of other people, too."

Jean knew at this point that he was babbling, but he just couldn't seem to stop. A dam had burst in his mind and all of the pent-up emotions from the last month and a half just came rushing forth like a tidal wave, threatening to consume everything in its path. "And when I saw that douchebag sit there and treat you like complete and utter _garbage_ simply because you chose to date someone like me I lost it, because anyone who treats you like less than what you're worth is a fool. And I know I'm no exception, so I won't blame you if you never want to speak to me again after today."

Jean breathed a shaky sigh, and if he hadn't known just how much the guilt of what he'd done had been weighing him down, he knew now, because it felt as if he were a hundred pounds lighter, and he mentally slapped himself for ever believing that it would be okay to leave things the way they had. Armin simply stared at him thoughtfully, and for what felt like an eternity they simply stood there, Armin staring at Jean and Jean anxiously waiting for what Armin inevitably had to say. It was torture, but Jean was on thin ice already, so he wasn't about to protest. It was just as Jean was about to fidget in place for about the millionth time that Armin finally nodded and said, "Okay."

Jean froze, his brain refusing to register the simple word. "Okay?" he said.

"Okay," Armin verified, a look of absolute seriousness on his face. "I forgive you."

"You do?" he asked, bewildered. "Seriously?"

"Yes, Jean," Armin said, a hint of a smirk tugging on his lips at the look of utter shock on Jean's face. "I forgive you. You shouldn't have done what you did, but I realize you only did it all because you care about me."

"That doesn't change the fact that I said some really awful things to you," Jean said contritely.

"Yeah, you did," Armin said, looking down to the floor. "But I said some things I shouldn't have, too, so it really wouldn't be fair of me to hold that against you."

"That's not the point, Ar," Jean insisted. "The things I said...you have no idea how much I despise myself for hurting you the way I did. Nothing can make up for how I treated you."

Armin smiled, but it was a sad, bitter twist of his lips that killed Jean a little bit inside. "Jean, we all say things we really wish we shouldn't, but that's part of being human. I don't ever want you to hate yourself for making a stupid mistake."

Jean laughed shallowly. "Even a really, _really_ stupid mistake?"

And there it was. It was small- barely there, even- but the light that Jean loved so much was returning to Armin's eyes and spreading over his face, and Jean was so relieved he could cry. "Yes, even those."

Jean smiled, raking a hand through his hair. "You really are amazing, you know that?" he said, bowing his head and resting the same hand that combed through his hair over his eyes in an attempt to hide the hint of color rising in his cheeks, though he got the feeling Armin could see it anyway. "God, I don't deserve you."

"Oh, I'm sure Eren could attest to that," Armin said, a hint of mischief in his voice, and Jean could tell without looking that he had a shit-eating grin on his face.

Jean let the hand resting over his face fall back to his side, and he looked back towards Armin. "So what happens now?" he said. "With that whole dance school thing, I mean."

"Oh, that," Armin said nonchalantly, as if they were talking about something as unimportant as the weather. "I got in."

For the second time during this conversation, Jean froze, Armin's words having rendered him speechless. When his brain caught up with him and gave him a solid kick in the rear that told him he should just _say something_ , he sputtered out a choked, "Y-you _what?_ "

"I got in," Armin repeated, and Jean knew for a fact that Armin was enjoying inflicting such torment on his mental state.

"H-how, when?" Jean asked, his speech having apparently been reduced to that of a grade-schooler.

"Well, after everything that happened that day at the cafe, I got in contact with the Dean and they apologized for the instructor's behavior and ensured that they would handle it," Armin said, with a casual shrug of his shoulders. "After that, it was just a matter of reviewing my application and setting a date for a tour of the university."

So excited was Jean at this new development that for a moment he completely forgot about the lingering tension between them and, without thinking, he rushed forward to scoop Armin into his arms and twirl him around the room, shouting like a madman.

"Jean!" Armin said, breathless with laughter and perhaps a little bit from getting his lungs crushed by the overexcited teen. "Jean, put me down! I can't breathe."

Jean stopped, suddenly remembering himself and dropping Armin hurriedly to the ground before practically leaping across the room, a furious blush staining his face and a good portion of his neck. "Geez, Ar, I'm so sorry," he stammered, looking anywhere but at him. "I don't know what came over me."

Armin laughed, and it was a true laugh that made Jean feel warm like he hadn't felt in weeks. He felt a slight pressure on his cheek and his eyes widened before landing back on Armin, who was smiling up at him sweetly. "It's okay, Jean."

And then Jean was smiling, too, because everything was back as it should be.

"Hey," Jean said after a while, almost indignantly. "If you managed to get into that fancy dance school after everything that happened, why did you keep avoiding me?"

Armin smiled almost guiltily, but his eyes sparkled with too much mischief for Jean to ever think that he felt any bit of remorse. "Now, Jean, did you really expect me to be that easy on you?"

Jean laughed at that, and it was his first true laugh in weeks. Before he could think to stop himself, he'd gathered Armin into his arms and buried his face into the soft blond hair on top of his head, though neither seemed to have any complaints. And when Armin wrapped his arms around Jean and held him just as tight as Jean was holding him, he knew everything would be okay.

Armin was a man of many surprises, but Jean couldn't help thinking that maybe that wasn't such a bad thing.

* * *

 **Okay, so, I know it's been a while since I've posted anything but I'm afraid I have a bit of bad news. My computer died a couple months back and I've been trying to get some money to buy a new one, and I haven't been having a lot of luck. This, unfortunately, means I can't write nearly as much as I used to, and I can't post anything as often as I'd like. But when I do get another computer, I'll hopefully be back to full writing capacity and you all will get more updates. Until then, I hope this will satisfy your fanfiction needs. :)**

 **Don't forget to leave a review and tell me what you guys think!**


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